


Rub Away Your Pain

by alkjira



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, At Beorn's, Awkwardness, Bilbo POV, Bottom Thorin, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rimming, Smut, slight cultural differences, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5026036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What is a <i>massage</i>?”</p><p>Bilbo’s eyes widened. “Oh, well you take off your clothes and I put my hands on you and rub and if Beorn has any oil it’ll feel much nicer and-”</p><p>When Thorin choked on the air of his next breath Bilbo realised what that must have sounded like and blushed as red as any tomato he’d ever grown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rub Away Your Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Builds on a tiny little prompt story I posted at tumblr, got a lot longer than I thought.
> 
> Will check it again tomorrow to see if I catch anymore weirdness. Now I want to go to bed.

He only asked because it had been obvious that Thorin had been in pain. And Bilbo did not like seeing him in pain. He didn’t like seeing anyone in pain. Well, unless you counted the likes of Azog, but even so Bilbo would prefer them to be dead and not suffering.

If they were dead they couldn’t make anyone else suffer with them. It was just sensible.

He probably wouldn’t have asked if he hadn’t had an inkling that Thorin wouldn’t ask for help, he hadn’t yet at least. And as far as Bilbo was aware no one else had offered.

If it was a Dwarf thing or Thorin thing… Bilbo wasn’t sure, but in any case, his suggestion was made with the _purest_ of intentions.

“Do you…well…I mean…”

It wasn’t his fault that his mind had only informed him that touching Thorin would entail such things as _touching Thorin_. As in; his hands, on Thorin, for Valar knew how long.

“What?” Thorin asked, and when Bilbo blinked and met his gaze he was treated to an impatient frown.

Oh dear. Biting the inside of his cheek Bilbo told himself to get on with it. It would help Thorin, and that was the important thing.

“Icouldgiveyouamassage?”

The frown did not go away.  
  
“Or not,” Bilbo added, taking a small step backwards. “I just thought it could help with the-” he waved his hand towards Thorin’s chest. ”Being used as a-” do _not_ say chew-toy, do not compare a king to a dog’s play-thing “-I mean, I just thought it might help with any aches,” Bilbo finished, hiding a sigh as the frown on Thorin’s face had only deepened during the explanation.

“What is a _massage_?”

Bilbo’s eyes widened. “Oh, well you take off your clothes and I put my hands on you and rub and if Beorn has any oil it’ll feel much nicer and-”

When Thorin choked on the air of his next breath Bilbo realised what that must have sounded like and blushed as red as any tomato he’d ever grown. A tomato with a curly wig, that was to be his life now. A tomato who apparently propositioned royalty without even knowing it. True, a tomato who secretly would be very pleased to-

But that was clearly not on the table.

Bilbo winced as Thorin winced, the coughing clearly not doing his ribs any favours.

“I’m sorry,” Bilbo blurted. “I didn’t- it’s not like that. It’s rubbing- erm, kneading, oh Eru, pressure? On muscles. To help them relax. When there’s pain. Or hurt. Which I guess means pain. I’ll just shut up now.”

“You mean bodywork?” Thorin asked once he’d caught his breath.

“I- guess I do?” Bilbo agreed. “I’m not familiar with that term, but it does seem to fit.” He hesitated. “I’m told I’m quite good at it. If you’d let me I’d be glad to see if I can… help?”

Thorin was quiet for a few moments and Bilbo tried not to fidget, which he discovered was quite extraordinary difficult when you had Thorin Oakenshield’s full attention.

“I’m going to bathe tonight.”

“Yes?” Bilbo said, when nothing else seemed to be forthcoming.

“Afterwards, you could… assist me.”

“Massage you?”

Thorin nodded and Bilbo nodded back, a (likely inappropriately big) smile spreading over his face. “Good, great, I’ll do that.”

-

Famous last words.

He hadn’t wanted to hang over Thorin’s shoulder the entire night like a mix between a peeping tom and worry wart, so instead Bilbo had retired to the small room Beorn had given him.

It wasn’t Hobbit sized, but it wasn’t really Man sized either, and he supposed it couldn’t be Dwarf sized since their host had made it clear that he didn’t much like Dwarfs.

It really was only big enough for a chair and a bed to fit, both much too small for their host to ever squeeze himself into, and that made Bilbo wonder what purpose the room served even as he was quite happy it existed.

A night without snoring thundering on in the background would be much appreciated. Once they left for Mirkwood such luxuries would again be an impossibility, and Bilbo could say the same about being alone.

Alone by _choice_ that was, which wasn’t at all the same thing as being alone after falling down a chasm. That… had not been good.

But not counting that time - and not counting when nature called - Bilbo hadn’t really been alone more than a minute or two ever since he caught up with the Company just outside of Hobbiton. Even in Rivendell they’d shared rooms.

Shutting the door to his room had prompted a quiet that almost felt noisy. By the time someone knocked on his door Bilbo hadn’t yet figured out if he liked it or not.

It was Thorin, and Bilbo realised that he must have been in his room for a lot longer than he’d thought. Thorin’s hair was wet, and he wasn’t wearing all of his clothes, just a blue undertunic and trousers. No boots, and Bilbo’s eyes widened at the sight of Thorin’s toes.

They were small and pink and ridiculously cute and Bilbo had to force his eyes up to Thorin’s face again, hoping that his staring hadn’t been obvious.

“Would you like to come in?”

“Thank you,” Thorin said, almost solemnly. When he stepped inside Bilbo couldn’t help but smell him. He didn’t do something as foolish as to sniff him, but the scent of soap was hard to miss, and quite pleasant.

“If you could-“ Bilbo glanced at the chair. “I think you need to lie down on the bed. If we stand I’m not going to be able to reach properly. Don’t worry, I’ve not made use of it yet.”

For a moment Bilbo’s cheeks contemplated making a go at becoming tomatoes again.

That had almost sounded as if- but no, no thinking of such things. And no thinking about how his bed would smell like Thorin afterwards. Nope. Banish all such thoughts immediately. Better to pretend that he knew what he was doing.

“And if you could remove your shirt first?”

After a beat Thorin reached up to tug at the collar, and Bilbo noted that his movements were quite stiff. As more and more of Thorin’s skin was revealed the reason behind that became all too clear.

“Thorin- oh my.” Bilbo’s hands twitched with need to reach out and trace the darkened patches of skin along Thorin’s left side. His armour had protected him well; Bilbo couldn’t see even one scratch that had actually broken his skin, but the bruising made it abundantly clear that even though no blood had been spilt it didn’t mean that Thorin was unharmed.

“It’s fine,” Thorin said, and the only reply Bilbo could give that was a mildly sceptical hum. If it’d been ‘fine’ there was no way Thorin would have agreed to this.

“Where are the worst aches?” he said instead, beginning to roll up the sleeves of his own shirt.

Asking Beorn for some oil had earned him a curious look, but indeed also some oil, so Bilbo was counting it as a win. “Front or back.”

“Back,” Thorin said after a moment’s hesitation.

“On your belly then,” Bilbo nodded, gesturing at the bed. “And we’ll see if I can help with that.”

Thorin’s lips twitched, but he didn’t make any comments. A step forward brought him to the bed, and he knelt down on it and proceeded to stretch out; head pillowed on his arms. Bilbo did not miss the small flinch when Thorin raised his arms and he made a note to be very, very careful with Thorin’s ribs.

“Comfortable?”

After saying the word it struck him as a silly question and Bilbo didn’t wait for a reply, instead he wriggled up the small bottle of oil that he’d tucked away in his trouser pocket with the hope that it’d warm up a bit.

As Bilbo put one knee on the bed he hesitated.

“Can I- if I straddle you, I’ll be able to-“

“Yes.”

Okay then.

Once again Bilbo’s good intention were one step ahead of his mind, because only once he was settling down at the small of Thorin’s back did he realise what a spectacularly bad idea it was.

It was possible the worst idea Bilbo had ever had.

It took everything he had not to bend down and bury his nose at the dark locks covering the back of Thorin’s neck, puffing them aside until he could press his lips to Thorin’s skin and chase down a trace of something that wouldn’t be Beorn’s soap.

Thorin was so warm, and felt so good, and he would _not_ fail to notice if part of Bilbo stood up in appreciation.

Stupid, stupid, stupid… Gritting his teeth Bilbo dug the nails of his free hand into his palm, hoping that the pain would be a pre-emptive help of any _problem_ that would… rise.

“Right, I’m going to pour some oil in my hands, and then I’m going to touch you. On the back.”

And he wouldn’t be weird about it.

-

Bilbo tried his best.

At least the massage seemed to be helping Thorin. He’d been really tense at the start, but little by little he’d softened into something at least approaching relaxed. It was a little difficult to tell with all that muscle. Bilbo wasn’t used to touching someone who seemed to consist of more muscle than anything else.

It wasn’t unpleasant, just unfamiliar.

The occasional sigh, groan and moan from Thorin didn’t affect Bilbo at all. Nope.

Nor did he breathe a sigh of relief when he realised that he’d done as much good as he could for Thorin’s back.

“Right,” Bilbo said as he scrambled down from Thorin to give him space to move. “If you’d like to roll over I can-“

Thorin had started to move, albeit a little sluggishly, and then he froze.  
  
“No.”

“No?”

“I- can’t.”

“Did I hurt you?” Half-way off the bed Bilbo climbed back up, making sure not to jostle Thorin. When he touched his hand to Thorin’s shoulders he was just as stiff as when they’d started. Maybe a muscle had cramped. “I’ll help.”

Thorin made a choked sound. “That’s the- No.”

“Should I get Óin?”

“ _No_.”

“Okay then,” Bilbo said, a little taken aback by the force of Thorin’s refusal. It would seem he’d been right before about Thorin not wanting to ask for help.

“Mahal wept,” Thorin muttered, and there was something else that Bilbo didn’t quite catch.

Heaving a deep sigh Thorin rolled over and got up and-

 _Oh_.

Thorin was now standing on the other side of the bed. Which put his crotch right at Bilbo’s eyelevel as he was still sitting on the bed. Thorin was hard. And- Bilbo swallowed. Possibly not wearing any pants.

He could see the (rather impressive) line of Thorin’s erection straining against his trousers and he could see more than he supposed he’d be able to see if Thorin had been wearing pants.

He probably didn’t have any clean ones, Bilbo thought, a small edge of something like hysteria edging around the words. And since he’d bathed… Bilbo tried his best to stop that thought, but he didn’t quite succeed, and the image of Thorin gently washing his cock and plums made Bilbo swallow.

Belated Thorin plucked his shirt off the bed and held it in front of him.

“I’m sorry, I- I will leave.”

“You don’t have to,” Bilbo blurted when Thorin took a step forwad. “We could continue. It happens sometimes with the touching. And rubbing. And I'm going to shut up again.”

Only he didn’t. Couldn’t. Because what if-

“Or if you want, I could help-“

Thorin’s face clouded, which was the opposite of what Bilbo wished would happen. “This is not a hurt you need to tend.”

“But if I want to?”

The words hung in the room like great big hanging things. Like curtains with a very loud pattern.

“If _you_ want,” Bilbo clarified, twining his fingers together in case he’d do something foolish. “I would very much like to touch you. Again. More. In… other places. Otherwise I can go and-“ have a wank, thinking about you touching yourself – “go outside. For a- walk. A long walk.”

“You would touch me as part of the massage?” Thorin’s voice was carefully level.

Bilbo snorted. “No, it doesn’t work that way. I'm-“ He made a fluttering gesture down to his own crotch, feeling colour rise in his cheeks. And even more so when Thorin's gaze dropped. “I’d _like_ to touch you. Like that.”

He bit his lip when Thorin didn’t say anything. “Or I can just go, that’s fine too. No worries. I'll just-“

“Stay.”

“Right.” They looked at each other and Bilbo gnawed on his lip again and settled for patting the bed. “Would you like to lie down again?” He swallowed. “And we’ll figure something out?”

The bed dipped when Thorin say down and Bilbo scooted over until their shoulders brushed. Thorin was amazingly warm, and Bilbo wished that he’d known this earlier. Surely Thorin wouldn’t have minded cuddling the poor freezing Hobbit on the road? No?

“We could-“

“May I kiss you?” Thorin asked, something like insecurity shadowing his eyes.

“Of course,” Bilbo nodded, a pleased smile spreading over his lips. “I’d-“

-like that. He didn’t have time to finish his sentence.

Thorin’s lips were softer than he… might have imagined. (Oh fine, he had been thinking about it.) The beard however wasn’t and it scratched his chin, and the moustache tickled.

It was lovely. At least until he could feel Thorin lean down a little too much, prompting a wince.

“Lie down again?” Bilbo murmured, gently pushing at Thorin’s shoulders. “Let me-“ He hesitated. Maybe he shouldn’t say that he wanted to take care of Thorin. Even though he did want that. He didn’t want him to go all prickly again. “I want to touch you.”

“You already did.”

Bilbo chuckled. “Well I _was_ going to do your front as well, so-“

A blush probably shouldn’t be that attractive, Bilbo mused when Thorin’s face acquired a touch of pink. Thorin’s eyes had darkened as well, and the look in them made Bilbo shiver.

He wasn’t sure what this was, but he knew enough to know that he wanted Thorin. Desperately.

When he nudged Thorin’s shoulder again Thorin moved to lie down on his back, and Bilbo took a moment to appreciate Thorin’s chest as he’d not really had an opportunity to do so before. Feeling brave he reached out and brushed his fingers over the trail of dark hair disappearing down into Thorin’s trousers.

“Can we get rid of these?” he asked, tugging lightly on the waistline.

“I wouldn’t say that I’m the one who is overdressed,” Thorin said drily, a meaningful glance at Bilbo’s clothes. He did however raise his hips obligingly when Bilbo continued to tug at the trousers, allowing him to slide them off.

Thorin was indeed not wearing pants, and Bilbo’s mouth watered again, and still trapped in his own trouser his cock gave a very interested twitch.

Thorin’s cock was a great deal bigger than Bilbo’s own, both longer and thicker. It curved slightly to the left, and the dark pink head was already peeking through the foreskin, and Bilbo _very_ much wanted to get it into his mouth. He wasn’t sure how much of it would fit, but he was prepared to give it a good go.

He was just about to suggest it when-

“Will you take me?”

The same sort of noisy quiet that had happened when he closed to door filled Bilbo’s mind.

He hadn’t gotten that far in the proceedings yet, and it took him a moment to gather his wits enough that he could move forward and kiss Thorin again. (That a fair bit of his blood had decided to rush south probably didn’t help either.)

“I’d love to have you,” Bilbo murmured against Thorin’s lips. “If you want-“

“I do.”

Bilbo suspected that his grin was bordering on scary, but Thorin didn’t seem to mind. “That’s-“ he kissed Thorin again instead of saying something silly. Kissing Thorin was very distracting and only when Bilbo felt a tug on his clothes he remembered that they’d been in the middle of something. Well, they still were.

“I want to see you,” Thorin rumbled, and Bilbo nodded.

“Right, I’ll just-“

Moving away from Thorin’s side was almost physically painful, and Bilbo made quick work of his clothes, leaving them on the floor where they fell. Having Thorin’s eyes on him as he undressed didn’t help speed things along, Bilbo kept getting distracted and fumbled with laces and buttons, but he liked it anyway. And he hoped Thorin liked what he was seeing.

That appeared indeed to be the case because when Bilbo climbed back into the bed Thorin reached out for him, tugging him close. A little too close, because when Bilbo bumped against him there was a sharp intake of breath and a bitten-off curse.

“Sorry, sorry,” Bilbo breathed. “Are you-“

“I’m fine.”

“Right.” Bilbo gave Thorin a sceptical look and very gently poked him in the side, making sure not to actually touch any of the bruising. Thorin winced. “So how about you just lie there and look pretty and I-“

“ _Pretty_?”

Bilbo gave Thorin an innocent look. “Oh I’m sorry, _lovely_ , is that better?”

He snickered at the narrowed eyed glare he received. “I’m sorry, but I’m not making fun. You’re stunning. When I massaged you I kept needing to think of other things, much more unpleasant things. If I hadn’t well, that would have been quite rude.”

“You managed better than I did.” Thorin shook his head. “And even though I-“ he broke off, but not before Bilbo’s curiosity had been peaked.

“Even though you..?”

The flush on Thorin’s cheeks darkened a little. “I- touched myself before I came here. So this-“ He gestured down at his erection. “Wouldn’t happen. Obviously it did not work.”

That was almost enough to make Bilbo fall off the bed. Thorin had expected to get hard. He’d come to Bilbo’s room thinking that he would- and even though he’d spent he still was-

Bilbo wanted- _needed_ to know if-

“Did you do it because you were going to be touched, or…”

“Because _you_ were going to touch me.” Thorin’s mouth did the little twitchy thing again. “It would not have been an issue if it had been Óin.”

Knowing that it was a bad idea to jump Thorin Bilbo settled for kissing him again.

It was different this time, with both of them naked, and knowing that Thorin wanted him. Him. Not just anyone. _Him_.

Bilbo let his hands to wander, gently over Thorin’s chest, and more firmly down his stomach and then gentler again as he wrapped his left hand around Thorin’s cock. Tried to at least. It was thick enough that only his longest finger managed to make contact with his thumb.

Thorin groaned into the kiss. “Careful, or things will be over quite quickly for me.”

“I’m always careful,” Bilbo said, aiming for haughty but he had a feeling he ended up a lot closer to outrageously sincere. “I suppose asking for a third time would be too much?”

Thorin snorted. “It’s been quite some time since I was in my adolescence.”

Leaning in for a quick peck Bilbo let out a shuddering breath and leaned his forehead against Thorin’s. He was going to take care of Thorin. And if that involved not getting to suck him, so be it.

“Right then, how about we get you settled on your belly again?”

It took a little more manoeuvring this time, but with the pillow and covers tucked beneath Thorin’s stomach he could have his arse up and chest down without it putting too much strain on his ribs.

It was a lovely picture, having Thorin kneeling on the bed like that, and Bilbo tried to put the details somewhere in his mind where he’d never lose them, but he kept getting distracted.

The fall of Thorin’s dark hair down against the pale sheets. Miles and miles of lovely skin, and did Thorin remember the story behind all those small scars and spots? Would he want to tell Bilbo about them? Some other time? Would there be another time?

“Am I to lie like this for long?”

Bilbo stroked his hand down Thorin’s back. “Just enjoying the pretty- I mean, _lovely_ view.”

That earned him another snort, and Bilbo vowed that if there was indeed another time, he’d continue on this quest to make Thorin understand how beautiful he was. That he didn’t already know was nothing short of absurd.

“Could you spread your legs a little bit more?” Bilbo asked as he crawled between said legs. “Like that, thank you, that’s wonderful.”

Thorin’s arse was also more muscle than anything else, but it was still a very nice one, and Bilbo allowed himself a moment or two of sheer appreciation; fondling and kneading, before he spread Thorin’s cheeks.

Thorin twitched at the first flick of Bilbo’s tongue. “What are you-“

“Taking advantage of you just having bathed,” Bilbo said, tracing his index finger lightly over Thorin’s hole. “And once I start using the oil it will taste strange.” Soap was also a little strange, but better than oil. Oil _lingered_ , which was good, but-

Thorin’s laughter started like a quiet rumble, and Bilbo petted worriedly at his sides, concerned that he’d injure himself.

“I wonder,” Thorin said. “If was to spend some time in the Shire, would I discover that all Hobbits are like you, or that you are wholly unique?”

Bilbo sniffed. “I couldn’t tell you.”

Thorin was still chuckling slightly when Bilbo lowered his head again and licked a long stripe from Thorin’s plums up to the edge of his ring. And then he flicked his tongue again. It was a little petty but he preferred the moaning before feeling like Thorin was amusing himself at his expense.

“Just relax,” Bilbo prompted, running his hands up and down Thorin’s sides, down his legs, and back up again. He thought some of the tension disappeared from Thorin’s shoulders, but not all of it.

In a perfect world they could start from the beginning, and Bilbo could spend the better part of an hour working out all the tensions, again, from Thorin’s frame. But- another time. Perhaps. Hopefully.

For now he’d just need to find another way to make Thorin relax.

Sadly licking him didn’t seem to be it. Not that he didn’t appear to enjoy it, but he wasn’t relaxing. Maybe it was too new to him? He had seemed awfully surprised.

Mentally congratulating himself for his forethought Bilbo knelt up reached for the bottle of oil. Thinking at first to pour some in his hand Bilbo changed his mind and let a small trickle run down Thorin’s crack, over his hole. It prompted a lovely shiver, and Bilbo hummed and chased the tiny stream with two of his fingers, smearing the slick liquid where it’d do the most good.

“I’ll warm it up.”

“I’m sure you will,” Thorin said, a little muffled by the bed.

“Nothing hurting?”

Thorin hesitated for a moment. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Your ribs?”

“Are fine.”

“Fine?”

“Bilbo… if you mean to torment me-“

“I don’t.” He pressed the pad of his thumb against Thorin’s hole, prodding. “Do you touch yourself like this?”

Thorin groaned. “S-sometimes.”

And Thorin’s fingers were a great deal bigger than his own. Nodding to himself Bilbo pushed his thumb in to the first knuckle, dribbling a little more oil down where they were connected.

Thorin was snug, but not tight to the point of discomfort. Bilbo still spent some time working him open, switching to two fingers when Thorin squirmed and pushed his arse back.

“Tell me where? Or when?”

“I- down?

Worrying his bottom lip with his teeth Bilbo crooked his fingers, searching for-

Thorin tensed, and then went limp. “There,” he groaned. “Careful.”

“Of course,” Bilbo promised, brushing the pads of his fingers over the spot. Thorin was slick and hot around him, and Bilbo’s cock was now entirely erect, bobbing lightly in the air with every other heartbeat. “Just relax for me, you feel so good. Thorin, so good for me.”

Reaching for the oil again Bilbo poured some more on Thorin’s arse. Pulling his fingers out he pressed in with his thumb again, stretching, testing, and then pressing in with the thumb on his other hand, gently spreading Thorin open.

“I’m going to-“

“Yes,” Thorin all but growled, rocking back against him. “Fuck me.”

Bilbo’s eyes widened slightly, as that hadn’t sounded particularly relaxed, but then again he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

He had enough oil left on his hands to coat his cock and spreading Thorin open with one hand Bilbo held his cock with the other, nudging the head against Thorin’s opening.

When he was all the way inside Bilbo realised that he’d forgotten to breath, and he gasped in a lungful of air. “Thorin, are you-“

“ _Move_.”

That was the kind of royal decree Bilbo could get behind, no pun intended, and he gripped Thorin’s hips as he began to rock in and out, slowly at first, and then when Thorin started to move with him, faster.

“Don’t- hurt yourself,” Bilbo panted when Thorin managed a particularly forceful push. “Your ribs.”

“I- will not- break,” Thorin groaned. “Bilbo, will you- touch me.”

On the verge of pointing out that he already _was_ , Bilbo realised what Thorin meant and pressed himself closer.

Reaching around Thorin’s hips Bilbo’s now entirely too clumsy hand fumbled between between Thorin and the bed before his fingers found Thorin’s cock. It jumped in his hand, slick either with sweat or pre-come and Bilbo shivered. It was so hard, and hot, and silky soft and he wished he could look. He wanted know how long he could suck Thorin before his jaw would ache, how much he could take.

He couldn’t quite manage to work his hand up and down in something resembling a rhythm, but Thorin didn’t seem to mind being petted and kneaded. Bilbo pressed his face against Thorin’s back, trying to remember how to breathe as he rocked his hips and tugged as best as he could at the hard length in his fist.

Bilbo hadn’t really thought about it, but if he had he’d expected Thorin to be loud when he came. He wasn’t, he only made a long trembling groan as his body tightened and squeezed around Bilbo, and moments after his cock twitched and spurted in Bilbo’s hand.

Without asking him Bilbo’s hips decided to abandon their previous pace and he jerked against Thorin, hips smacking up against Thorin’s arse, once, twice, threefourfive, and then Bilbo came as well. The entire world tinting white and shrinking until it was just him and Thorin left.

“You make for a poor blanket,” Thorin informed him after they’d both had caught their breaths somewhat.

“Better a blanket than a tomato,” Bilbo murmured. He hadn’t realised that he’d collapsed on top of Thorin, and he didn’t really want to move. But move he did.

“What?”

“Never mind.” Bilbo reached out blindly and stroked the first part of Thorin that he found. “Stay?”

The silence spread over the room like the worst kind of blankets and Bilbo forced himself to open his eyes.

“Do you want me to?” Thorin asked, and it was beyond unfair that he looked even more lovely now when Bilbo was sure that he himself resembled nothing but a sweaty mess.

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

Thorin’s tongue flicked out to sweep over his bottom lip and Bilbo observed it with keen interest and the knowledge that he wasn’t going to get hard again anytime soon.

“Then I’ll stay.”

Realising that Thorin might not want a kiss now knowing where Bilbo’s tongue had been Bilbo settled for smiling as brightly as he could.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm alkjira at tumblr as well if you wanna give me a poke :)


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